


Can't Remember To Forget You

by Dangit



Series: Song Fics [6]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Angst, Cheating, Dad!Sanji, Dom/sub Undertones, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Drugged Sex, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Friends With Benefits, Illicit activities, Multi, Murder, NSFW, POV Third Person Limited, Sanji makes bad life choices, Songfic, Switching, The Author Regrets Everything, Zoro makes bad choices, he makes me upset, i dont know?, sexual favors, the whole cast makes bad choices, though not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-16 00:42:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5806654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dangit/pseuds/Dangit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I keep forgetting I should let you go<br/>But when you look at me<br/>The only memory is<br/>us kissing in the moonlight."<br/>-Shakira</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can't Remember To Forget You

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Не помню, что должен тебя забыть](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13451571) by [NewBadGirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NewBadGirl/pseuds/NewBadGirl)



> Soooo.....yup, third--and not final--installment of the series nobody really asked for. I have a lot planned for this AU, so I hope you guys give it a chance. I know, it's so different from my other works, but hey...
> 
> Also, many thanks to my beta Zosanlaw, who also made amazing fan art for this chapter!! Check out it at the bottom!!

_I left a note on my bedpost_

_Said not to repeat_

_Yesterday's mistakes_

_What I tend to do_

_When it comes to you_

_I see only the good_

_Selective memory_

_The way you make me feel, yeah_

_You got a hold on me,_

_I’ve never met someone so different_

* * *

 Zoro used to be a proud man. Most people would call him cocky, arrogant even, but Zoro never cared. He was a man of his very own caliber, and lived with no regrets.

There’s not a trace of that man in him now.

“Hey, hey! You missed a line!” Baby hollers, wiping her nose. “You’re not getting any of this if you don’t clean your plate, mister.” She waves the tall vodka bottle in front of him, tripping a little on her own feet even though she’s mostly leaning against the bar.

Zoro rolls his eyes, leaning down to snort the long line Baby made for him. He closes his eyes and wipes his nose, momentarily feeling like he’s about to sneeze, but that would be such a waste, so he holds it in. Baby giggles and holds her index finger against Zoro’s nose, and amazingly, the sensation leaves him.

“Learned that little trick from a friend,” she says, winking. “Now, one shot, two shots, or three?”

“Hey, lovebirds! Get your asses back to work!” Diamante yells.

Baby startles and Zoro uses the opportunity to snatch the clear bottle from her, holding it out of her reach.

“Hey, give it back!”

“I’ll give it back,” Zoro promises. “Once I’m done drinking it.”

“Get back behind the bar,” Diamante snaps at her. Baby huffs, wipes her nose again and stomps back to where a line is forming around the bar. “How many times have we told you not to get fucked up before a job?” he snarls at Zoro, but the green-haired man only shrugs and drinks straight from the bottle.

“See, I ain’t fucked up,” Zoro tells him knowingly. “I mean, generally yeah, but not in the sense you mean right now.”

“What the fuck are you talking—? You know what? Never mind.” Diamante sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. “Doffy wants to see you upstairs. We finally tracked down the last of Bellamy’s crew.”

“And? What does he need me for?”

“I don’t fucking know! Just go!”

“Sheesh,” Zoro mutters, jumping off his seat. “You gotta buy looser pants, man. Those things are squeezing your nuts so bad, it’s making you cranky.”

“I’ll fucking crank your ass if you don’t hurry the fuck up,” Diamante hisses. “Now!”

It’s been three weeks since Zoro betrayed Robin, and Doffy has taken no shortcuts tracking down every person on the list Zoro gave him. Zoro hasn’t had the time to feel regret: he instantly drowned himself in the new drug Caesar brought…it’s new and experimental, but it makes Zoro feel like he’s walking on air. It’s such an amazing feeling, and the best thing: it has no crash. There’s no throwing up, no anxiety, no down side to the high. It’s more addictive, but hey, he’s already an addict, what’s one more ingredient to the cocktail of hell he takes every day?

Bellamy didn’t have that big a crew; he was an able bully, so he had a pretty big clientele. He really was one of Doffy’s biggest dealers, so Doffy is pissed about losing him.

Zoro recognizes the two people kneeling in front of Doffy’s desk, but he can’t recall their names. They’re both girls, bloodied and beaten, their clothes haggard and stained with incriminating white.

“Zoro…good to see you,” Doffy speaks blandly, ever-present grin widening. “Come, sit down.”

“What’s up?” Zoro asks, though he does sit on the chair Doffy offered. “You need me for something?”

“Not at the moment,” Doffy answers. “You’ve been of great help lately. You’ve proved your loyalty to me, and I know you’re willing to do the dirty work. How would you like to become one of my Executives?”

Zoro blinks, slightly surprised. He knows that all of the Executive have been with Doffy since he was little. They raised him and helped him build his empire. They’re practically family, so he’s surprised to hear Doffy make that offer so easily. At the very most, Zoro expected to become just an Officer.

“What does that entail?” Zoro asks carefully.

“Power. Money. Anything you want it to be,” Doffy says. “All you have to do…is dispose of Lily and Muret here.”

Zoro stares at the two girls. He can see finger-shaped bruises around their necks. Their shirts are in tatters, faces bloodied, and bodies painted in purple, red, and yellow. The blond girl has her hair cut haphazardly on one side, as if someone took a pair of rusty scissors to it and just started hacking. The other one has makeup smeared all over her face, painted like a clown.

Not only were they beaten, they were humiliated, too. They have been broken, body and soul, and when Zoro looks into their eyes, he sees nothing.

These girls are already dead.

“Fine,” he answers, shrugging. “Do you care how I do it?”

“No.” Doffy’s smile has that sharp glint to it, the one Zoro has grown to associate with that of an animal’s. “Have your fun.”

Zoro nods, finishing the last drag of the vodka bottle, and stands up to approach the girls. They don’t flinch…they don’t even look like they’ve noticed him.

“C’mon. Let’s go,” Zoro grunts. They stand up easily, and all he has to do is hold their shoulders to guide them out. This won’t take long at all.

* * *

_Oh here we go_

_You’re a part of me now_

_You're a part of me_

_So where you go I follow, follow, follow_

* * *

 There are times when Zoro forgets hours, days, even entire weeks of his life. He gets flashes and certain memories, but mostly it’s all just a haze. It doesn’t bother him, hardly anything does anymore, but when he wakes up in his apartment, covered entirely in blood, he panics.

He immediately pats himself down, looking for any injuries, but it’s not his blood.

“Shit, what did I do?” he whispers, groaning when his head throbs. He stinks of alcohol and sweat, and he can’t even remember when was the last time he took a shower. He feels horrible, there’s an itch on the back of his throat, and everything around him looks woozy and distorted.

Shit, how high did he get yesterday?

He stands up on shaky feet, almost throwing up when he sees the amount of blood staining his kitchen floor. Fuck, this is…no one can survive this much blood loss. Did he…kill someone last night? Fuck, this is a new rock bottom for him.

“Fuck,” he mutters, rushing towards his bathroom to empty the contents of his stomach in the toilet. He retches, coughing as his throat starts burning, and wipes his mouth clean. Nothing but bile…when was the last time he ate anything?

Why does he feel so bad? It’s almost like he’s on withdrawal, but it’s only been about six hours since he last took a hit. Is this…is this an effect of Caesar’s new drug?

He needs another hit. He’s having trouble breathing and he’s sweating even though he feels cold. There’s an itch on his body, but he can’t exactly pinpoint it, so scratching will do nothing. Shit, he _really_ needs another hit. But first, he needs to clean up the blood.

He doesn’t own a mop or even a broom, so he uses one of his dirty shirts and soapy water to scrub the floors. No matter how hard he scrubs and wipes, though, the floor is left with a dark yellowish color. He’s not going to be able to clean that up unless he buys some serious cleaning materials, so he gives up and decides to take a shower.

He doesn’t have shampoo or soap, so he’s forced to strip down to his boxers to hide the blood from his neighbor when he goes to ask them for some soap. The whole apartment is a nest of petty criminals and thugs, so they know better than to tattle on him.

Showering feels good, soothes his anxiety for just a little, but as soon as he’s dry and cleaned, the itch comes back.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he mutters, rubbing his chest where it feels like his ribs are constricting around his heart. He does have PCP, he doesn’t use it often but he hopes the painkiller will be able to soothe his symptoms until he can get some more of whatever that drug was Caesar gave him.

However, before he can even begin looking for it, there’s a knock on his door. The last time anyone visited him, Robin stood behind that door. Zoro winces, staring guiltily at the plain door.

Robin doesn’t know that he and Sanji were a thing. She had no idea that Zoro would react so badly to the picture of Cloe. To her, he and Sanji were just friends. And Zoro betrayed her. He took her trust and fucked her over with it. He’s the worst of the worst.

“Go away,” he whispers, but there’s a second knock.

If it _is_ Robin, the least he owes her is an explanation. And the sooner he opens the door and gets her to leave, the sooner he can take the PCP. He hesitates, wrapping his hand around the cool knob, and opens the door just as a third knock sounds.

“Sanji?”

He’s just like Zoro remembers him. Tall, with wide shoulders and a narrow waist. Hair the color of sunlight and eyes the color of the sea, sinful lips wrapped around that ever present cigarette, even if it is unlit this time.

He’s not wearing his usual suit, dressed in simple jeans and a blue polo shirt, but he’s still as beautiful as Zoro remembers him.

Even with the dark bags under his eyes, the scraggly beard, and the tired hunch of his shoulders.

“H-hey, Zoro,” Sanji greets, his eyes shifty.

“Hey,” Zoro breathes out.

“Um…so…can I come in?”

Zoro startles and leans back, opening the door wide for Sanji to step through. He smells like his old cologne, mixed with…baby lotion.

“Wow…cozy,” Sanji says, smirking at him over his shoulder.

Zoro stares around his apartment, suddenly feeling very inadequate. “Yeah. It’s…cheap.”

“How are you?” Sanji asks, standing awkwardly in the middle of Zoro’s apartment.

“I’m fine,” Zoro answers. “I…heard about Clo… your daughter.”

Sanji smiles, a real smile. “Yeah. She’s…she’s fine.” The smiles fades and the tension returns to the room.

Zoro doesn’t know what to do with himself. He feels a little nauseous and his heart is racing, but he doesn’t know if that’s coming from his withdrawal, or if he feels like this because of Sanji. It’s probably Sanji.

“Are you feeling alright?” Sanji asks. “You look a little pale.”

“Oh, that’s just…the flu,” Zoro lies. “I have some medicine. Uh, let me—.” He awkwardly walks around Sanji to reach one of the kitchen cabinets. He keeps his back to the blond, using his body to block his view. He swallows down two pills, and follows it with water not because he needs it, but because he doesn’t want Sanji to realize how used he is to taking pills.

“The flu? You know, my chicken soup is the best remedy for that,” Sanji beams. “I haven’t made one of those in ages! Are you hungry?”

Sanji doesn’t wait for Zoro to answer, walking past him to look through his cabinets. Zoro steps back, sighing as the effects of the anesthetic start to take over him. He follows Sanji with hooded eyes, the tension and nervousness leaving his body. PCP doesn’t mellow him out, so he doesn’t take it much, but it does give him excess energy and lightens his mood a little more. He’s more easy going under its influence, but he hates how it makes him feel like time is moving slower.

He stops thinking, doesn’t worry about why Sanji is here or what he wants, or anything of that matter. All he cares about is watching the blond cook move around his kitchen with confidence.

“Really, Zoro?” Sanji snaps. “There’s nothing but junk food in here! I mean, you don’t even have milk and cereal. Twinkies, brownies, beef jerky—you don’t even like this shit!”

Zoro shrugs. “It’s cheap,” he grunts. And drugs are expensive. He has his priorities in check.

“Well, this is probably why you’re sick. You need a healthy, balanced diet to build up your immune system,” Sanji lectures. “C’mon, we’re going to the grocery store.”

“Okay.”

Following Sanji is simple. Zoro doesn’t get lost, because his eyes are always glued to the other man. Sanji continues talking nonstop about everything and anything, and Zoro follows the movement of his hands as he speaks.

Sanji can only multi-task when he’s in the kitchen, so everything else, he does with his whole body. He moves his hands when he speaks, dances when he sings, moves things around when he’s irritated, and always picks a fight when he’s angry. Zoro’s always entertained, just watching Sanji.

“We need chicken and vegetables. Some milk and grains…do you know how to make rice?”

“Nope.”

“Okay. Well, some cereal should be nice. And maybe…”

Zoro drowns him out, nodding and following after him. Sanji pays for the food, but Zoro is the one who has to carry everything, just like old times. He remembers getting into countless of arguments with the other man over it, especially when Sanji didn’t ever help him carry _one_ bag, but right now he doesn’t care.

When they get home, Zoro sits on his bed with the TV on and muted, and watches Sanji work magic in his kitchen. For some reason, his apartment looks brighter today. All of the windows are open and the simmering soup smells divine.

And Sanji is still talking, Zoro doesn’t know about what, but he doesn’t care. He likes hearing his voice, likes having an excuse to stare at his lips.

“Here,” Sanji snaps, handing him a bowl of hot soup. “Eat it all. Careful, it’s hot.”

“Thank you,” Zoro says softly, blowing on the soup to cool it down. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

“I already ate,” Sanji explains. “I’ll put the leftovers in your fridge for you to eat tomorrow morning.”

Zoro nods, too busy gulping down the delicious kitchen soup to answer. Damn, he had forgotten just how amazing Sanji’s food is. It feels like drinking light out of a bowl, warming him up from the inside and spreading through his body in a rush.

“I…have to go back soon, but…do you mind if I come back tomorrow?” Sanji asks hesitantly.

“Nah, that’ll be great,” Zoro answers absentmindedly, too busy eating. “I work nights, so come early.”

Sanji beams and Zoro’s distracted for a little bit. “Alright. So, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, yeah. Thank you,” Zoro says, returning to his food. He’ll probably end up eating the leftovers before tomorrow morning. His stomach will hurt, but it’s too damn good to wait.

“Okay, great!”

Zoro smiles, blinded by Sanji’s responding smile, and absently thinks he wouldn’t mind if time continues to move slowly.

* * *

_Oh-oh ooh oh_

_Oh-oh ooh oh_

_I can't remember to forget you_

_Oh-oh ooh oh_

_Oh-oh ooh oh_

_I keep forgetting I should let you go_

_But when you look at me_

_The only memory is us kissing in the moonlight_

_Oh-oh ooh oh_

_Oh-oh ooh oh_

_I can't remember to forget you_

* * *

 The effects of PCP don’t last long anymore, but luckily, they last until Sanji leaves. Zoro only gets to enjoy a couple of hours of peace, before he starts feeling the signs of withdrawal and rushes to Dressrosa.

He tries not to think about Sanji at all. He doesn’t want to know why Sanji is here, why he came to visit Zoro, but it’s impossible to stop the questions now that he’s crashing.

Did Sanji leave Conis? No, he wouldn’t do that. Not with his daughter less than a month old. How did he find him? Did Robin tell him? Is this Robin’s revenge? Did she somehow figure out Zoro’s feelings for Sanji and decided to break his heart in exchange of him breaking her trust?

But still, why is Sanji here? What does he want from Zoro? And more importantly, what is Zoro going to do about it? Should he put a stop to Sanji’s visits? Tell him not to visit him anymore? He was lucky Sanji didn’t arrive when his apartment was a bloodied mess, he never wants Sanji to find out what Zoro does for a living now.

He doesn’t want Sanji to know about the drugs he takes every day just to be able to get off bed in the morning. He doesn’t want Sanji to see how fucked up he is, how empty and dead inside he is. And now, not only is he an addict and a drug dealer, he’s also a murderer. Did he kill those girls? What did he do with the bodies? Why was he so bloodied?

It’s too much, so much Zoro doesn’t want to think about, doesn’t even want to remember it. He needs something to numb it down, needs to escape his mind for just a little bit.

So he hunts Caesar down and asks for another sample of his new drug.

“Ah, so you liked it?” Caesar asks, grinning widely. “It’s amazing, isn’t it? I call it Koro. My pride and joy.”

“Yeah, yeah. How much for a week’s worth?”

“A week? I hope you’re not taking too much,” Caesar frowns. “Only smoke it, don’t swallow it or snort it. It’s very easy to overdose on it, and Doffy will be pretty upset if I kill his brand new toy.”

Zoro grimaces. Shit, so that’s why he felt like shit. Damn Baby, telling him lines was the way to go. “Alright, I got it.”

“I’ll give you two grams…try to stretch that out for two weeks,” Caesar orders. “First batch’s free, just because I know just how loyal a customer you are. But don’t go dying on me!”

Best news he’s heard all year. He takes the parchment-wrapped baggie from the crack scientist and makes a mental note to repay him some other way.

Back at the club, he borrows a pipe from Baby and takes a hit in the backroom before getting to work. Doffy still has him doing debt collections, but that takes a backdrop to taking in new clientele. The club has been doing great, it’s gotten quite the reputation, but Doffy wants to attract different ages.

He’s got Dellinger dealing with the high school kids, Baby usually takes care of Dressrosa, and since Zoro was the one who took out Bellamy, he’s the one in charge of the territory he left behind (even if Zoro did Doffy a favor by taking out the undercover DEA Agent).

There’s talk around the streets about Doffy’s roundup. Zoro doesn’t know how word got out that his boss figured out who had infiltrated his gang, but everyone who ever dealt with the authorities is now on the run. The arrival of Mihawk did nothing to alleviate people’s fears, and things only got worse after the swordsman left to visit the Capone group down south. If Doffy loses the Russian deal, there will be hell to pay.

It doesn’t ruffle Zoro’s feathers. It’s not that he thinks he’s invincible, but he has enough dirt on Doffy to know that if Zoro goes down, he’s dragging the bird man down with him. So no, he isn’t worried about that.

What he’s worried about is Sanji.

Sanji, who keeps coming back to visit him almost every day, and acts like him being in Zoro’s apartment is totally normal.

Zoro doesn’t want to confront him, doesn’t want to ask about Conis or Cloe, or why Sanji is visiting him in the first place. He’s afraid that if he asks too many questions, he’ll scare Sanji away.

Sanji’s problem has always been that even though he has an analytical mind capable of logically interpreting his emotions…he still chooses to follow said emotions blindly. Ever since they were kids, Zoro has been bailing him out of problems he got into because he acted with his heart, ignoring his mind completely.

Of course, most of the time acting out lead Sanji into fights (most of the time with Zoro), but that also included his desperate need to get his mother to like him, his obsession with becoming the perfect son for Zeff (even though, to Zeff, he already is), and his tendency to fall in love head first with any girl that smiled his way.

The only problem Zoro wasn’t able to solve was when Sanji drunkenly decided to sleep with him. They both know Sanji acted out of harsh feelings of insecurity and broken-heartedness; despite whatever else Sanji may have felt for him, Zoro is sure romantic interest was never a part of it.

He doesn’t doubt for a second that Sanji loved him as a friend—maybe he still does. They grew up together, they were each other’s best friends, and despite Zoro’s feelings, he never forgot that. Sanji was his friend before he was anything else, and most of his happy memories come from the time before they slept together.

And that was Zoro’s mistake. Because they both had their assigned task in their friendship: Sanji was the one who acted harshly and got himself into tight spots, and Zoro was the one who ended up thinking rationally and bailing him out.

It was a strange relationship, even more considering the fact that Zoro really never thinks things through. He always just acted on instinct, and since his instinct was always to give his all for Sanji, he was always able to help him.

And it was only easy for Sanji to accept the change in their relationship. For whatever reason, Sanji was able to see him sexually. They already had the emotional connection, and by some miracle, they managed to create a physical connection as well.

But it’s one thing to love someone, and another completely different is to _fall in love_ with someone. Sanji never fell, and Zoro hasn’t been able to get back up.

* * *

  _I can’t remember to forget you_

* * *

 The first time Sanji talks about his daughter, they’re walking back from buying groceries. Zoro has been spending less and less money on drugs and alcohol, and more on basic necessities like food, soap, toothpaste, and you know…his rent.

It takes almost threatening the man for his landlord to believe Zoro really wants to pay his rent and not just playing some kind of psychological torture on him.

Caesar’s Koro is more than enough to alleviate Zoro’s urges, and he still has three quarters of a gram from that first freebie Caesar gave him.

“It’s hard to believe one day I could be doing that,” Sanji says, his gaze faraway.

Zoro frowns and follow his line of sight, frowning when he sees Sanji’s attention is on the school across the street. It looks like a kindergarten, since all of the kids look to be around five or six years old.

“Do you think I could be a good father?”

Zoro lets out a quiet breath, carefully avoiding Sanji’s eyes. This… _feels_ important. He doesn’t know why Sanji is asking, but Zoro has the feeling that whatever his answer will be, it’ll help Sanji decide on something.

He knows the right answer, he just doesn’t know if he wants to be honest right now.

“Nah, you’ll be horrible,” Zoro answers, turning around to look Sanji in the eye. The cook looks appalled for only a moment, and then he notices Zoro’s smirk.

“That’s not funny, you damn marimo!” Sanji snaps, smacking him on the chest.

“You always end up doing the opposite of what I tell you, so why even ask?” Zoro shrugs, smacking Sanji in the back of the head in retaliation.

“Don’t hit me back. And it’ll do you good to learn how to read the mood.”

“Stop hitting _me_ back. And learn to take a joke.”

They continue bickering on their way back to Zoro’s apartment, only stopping when Zoro starts putting up the groceries in his cabinets and Sanji starts cooking.

“What are you making?” Zoro asks

“Okonomiyaki,” Sanji says, grinning at him over his shoulder. “To celebrate Golden Week!”

Zoro raises an eyebrow. “That ended two weeks ago. And we’re not in Japan.”

“Who cares. Like you need an excuse to eat my food,” Sanji shrugs and Zoro laughs.

“True,” he admits. “It’s been a while since I last had Japanese food.”

Before Conis, but neither will mention her.

“I need to use up all the leftovers in your fridge before they go bad. You bought beer, right?”

“Like you even need to ask.”

“Damn alcoholic.”

Zoro doesn’t answer, but he does smirk to keep the threatening tension away. He opens the fridge to reach for the beer, and notices his shaking hand. He quickly grabs the beer and focuses on something else, glad that the only symptom right now is tremors.

Shit, his tolerance is growing.

“You need a proper table,” Sanji comments, handing Zoro a plate filled with the delicious pancake.

“And where would I put it?” Zoro asks as he sits down on his bed. Sanji sits down at the foot of the bed, facing him with his legs crossed in butterfly-style.

“True. You need a bigger apartment.”

“I don’t mind this one.”

“That’s because you’re an idiot.”

“Are you going to pay the rent for my new, luxurious apartment?”

“Ha! As if!”

“Then shut up.”

Sanji flashes him his middle finger and Zoro retaliates by very grossly, very deliberately, chewing with his mouth open.

“Fuck you,” Sanji snaps, but Zoro can hear the laughter in his voice.

A knock on the door distracts him, and just like when Sanji first knocked on his door, he panics. No one ever visits him, at least not for anything good.

“Answer the door, marimo,” Sanji snaps, kicking him in the leg. It doesn’t hurt, Sanji doesn’t want it to hurt; it’s just enough to startle him into moving.

His hand shakes as he grips the knob, but it’s not fear. No, the chills and body aches make it clear enough he’s suffering from withdrawal again. Fuck his life.

Opening the door doesn't make him feel any better, especially not when he sees Baby on the other side.

“What do you want?” he snaps.

She blinks, surprised. “I…um, I need to talk to you. I think—.”

“Can’t it wait?” Zoro interrupts loudly, opening the door a little wider for her to see Sanji.

“Oh! I didn’t know you had company.”

“Don’t worry about me, _ma cherie_ ,” Sanji says in a singsong voice, waving at her. “Nice to meet ya’, I’m Sanji.”

Zoro grimaces as Baby’s eyes widen. Yeah, she clearly recognizes the name. He once made the mistake of fucking her while high on acid, and he imagined it was Sanji the whole time. She never mentioned it, but Zoro knows she remembers the name.

“H-hello. I’m Baby,” she greets him nervously. “I should probably get going.”

“Don’t worry about me,”’ Sanji assures her. “Pretend I’m not here, my dear.”

“No, that’s okay. I just needed…to remind you about work tonight,” Baby quickly lies. “You have a shift, remember?”

“You two work together?” Sanji asks curiously. “What do you do, by the way, marimo?”

Zoro scowls, glaring at Baby when he sees her eyes flick to his hair. “I work at a…club.”

“Doing?”

“Zoro’s a bouncer,” Baby quickly says. “And I’m a bartender. “

“Yup. So thanks for reminding me, Baby,” Zoro says, keeping up with the lie she pulled. “Another late shift and Doffy fires my ass.”

“Yeah, no worries,” Baby says, laughing nervously. “Wouldn’t want that, huh? So…yeah…goodbye. See ya’, Sanji,” she adds almost as an afterthought.

“Goodbye, Baby sweetest!” Sanji calls out, waving goodbye.

 _Thanks_ , Zoro mouths at her before he closes the door.

“So…you’re working as a bouncer?” Sanji asks as he picks up Zoro’s empty plate.

“Yeah,” he answers quietly.

“Maybe I could stop by your work sometime,” Sanji says, his back to Zoro as he starts washing dishes.

“I…that’s probably not a good idea,” Zoro murmurs, stepping next to him to start drying. “Um, it’s kinda…exclusive.”

“Aha, but see…I’m friends with the bouncer,” Sanji grins. “I’m sure he’ll let me in.”

He glances at Zoro expectantly, but he avoids his gaze. There’s no way in hell Zoro’s gonna let Sanji step foot in Dressrosa. He doesn’t care if he has to ask a favor from that fucking bouncer he hates just to ban Sanji from the club, he rather die than have the blond anywhere near that shit hole.

Zoro glances at Sanji, an excuse ready on his lips, but before he can say anything, Sanji kisses him.

There’s no pause, no logical segue, no reason for Sanji to be kissing him. Zoro’s brain doesn’t have time to catch up, so all he can do is stand there, frozen, with Sanji’s arms wrapped around his neck and his lips against his.

The kiss ends just as suddenly, but Sanji stays close to him, breathing haggardly into his neck, his hair blocking his face from Zoro’s view.

“Shit,” he hears Sanji whisper. “I didn’t…it wasn’t supposed to be like this,” he whispers, but he kisses him again, this one soft and wet, more passion than technique. “I’m not…stop me if you want,” he whispers, and then leans down to lock eyes with him. “Zoro?”

Stop him? Yeah, he should do that. Push him away and finally ask why the hell he’s here. He should demand answers, scream at him to go back to the wife and kid he chose above Zoro. He should punch him in the face, or at least kick him out of the house.

But his hands have stopped shaking and the pain has left his body, and his stupid brain doesn’t know enough to differentiate between Sanji’s kiss and any other drug.

And Zoro’s an addict, so he does what an addict does best and kisses Sanji again.

* * *

_I go back again_

_Fall off the train_

_Land in his bed, repeat yesterday's mistakes_

_What I'm trying to say_

_Is not to forget_

_You see only the good_

_Selective memory_

* * *

 Sex is great and all, but Zoro has always had a weakness for kissing. He was never a sexual person to begin with, was not the type of kid who watched porn or jacked off in his room. The first time he experienced sexual attraction was with Sanji…actually, that was the way he discovered the love he felt for his best friend was not familial. Still, despite that, he never really had sexual fantasies about Sanji. Yeah, they sometimes happened, but it was like a once in a blue moon type of situation.

On the contrary, Sanji is an extremely sexual person. One wouldn’t know it, looking at the dorky romantic gentleman, but sex is always a constant in Sanji’s mind. Zoro calls it perverseness, Sanji calls it passion. Usually, that passion is directed toward women, but after their first time together, Zoro experienced how it was like to be at the other side of Sanji’s heated gaze.

And sexual or not, Zoro wasn’t about to turn down an offer like _that._

Sanji was surprisingly dominant in bed. He always liked telling Zoro what to do, what position to get into, always guided Zoro through their encounters. He whispered praise and obscenities, and even when he ‘bottomed’, he was always in control. Zoro has a hard time believing he would treat his precious women like that, so maybe that’s one of the appeals about Zoro.

Sex between men can be as rough as it comes. And between Zoro and Sanji, it often was.

But the kiss they share in the kitchen is not rough. It’s passioned, yes—its heat warms Zoro to the core—but there’s no lip biting, no possessive swipe of the tongue, no white-knuckled grip on his hair. It’s slick and warm, eager and hungry.

Sanji walks him back into the bed and pushes him down, climbing on after him and spreading Zoro’s legs apart to settle in between. He grinds against him and Zoro gasps at the feeling of Sanji’s arousal brushing against his.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Sanji moans, his breath hot and heavy. “How in the fuck did you get bigger in six fucking months?”

Zoro laughs breathlessly. “Don’t be mad just because you can’t build muscle.”

“Fuck you.”

“Sure.”

Sanji rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling, still grinding against Zoro.

His touch is burning hot and possessive, his keening voice music to Zoro’s ears. He wasn’t aware of how much he missed this until now. This high is incomparable to any other, brighter and heavier than any other, and it has no low. It soothes him and excites him, and it drives his mind clear of any thoughts. It’s dangerous and addictive, and Zoro knows he shouldn’t be letting Sanji do this, he knows this is only going to end up badly but he still does nothing to stop the cook from undressing him.

There’s something different in Sanji’s touch, not exactly bad, but _different_. Maybe it’s the way he moves eagerly, hurriedly, like he’s running out of time, or maybe it’s the way Zoro’s name falls from his lips like a mantra, continuous and wanton.

Maybe it’s how _lewd_ he’s being. How he undresses him, taking his time to look and to touch, to taste and mark him. The way he grips him tight and whispers vulgar words in his ear.

Maybe it’s the way his lips wrap around Zoro’s cock, his fingers lubed and shoved deep inside him, his every jab and jerk hard and bawdy.

Maybe it’s the way Sanji looks like he wants him, like he truly, deeply _needs_ him. But it’s most definitely the way he makes Zoro _feel_ …for the first time in months.

“You ready?” Sanji breathes hoarsely, his hands on either side of Zoro’s head, his thighs supporting Zoro’s spread legs, his cock pressed against his opening, insistent but patient.

And really, does he even need to ask? “Yeah,” he answers, softly, quietly.

He pushes in slowly, too slowly, and the breath gets punched out of Zoro. He closes his eyes, struggling to breathe, and his arms wrap around Sanji’s chest in an effort to ground himself. He can feel the cook trembling with effort, can hear his staggered breathing.

“Shit,” Sanji groans, “you’re so fucking tight.”

It’s been a while for Zoro. Well, actually, it was the last time he was with Sanji. There was that one time with Daz, but they were both too fucked up for it to go anywhere. Coke can be a bitch on your dick. Luckily, Zoro hasn’t fallen victim to its more… _distasteful_ side-effects.

Sanji starts moving and Zoro keeps his eyes closed, waiting for it to start feeling good. Not that it feels bad. It’s just…uncomfortable. Tight and obtrusive, and sometimes just a little painful. But it feels a hundred times better than their shared first time, and soon enough—when Sanji pushes in deeper, pushing Zoro’s legs up just a little bit—it starts to feel good.

Sanji’s cursing up a shit storm, his pace picking up as he grunts with effort, fucking into Zoro every time deeper, harder. Zoro moves his hands up to stop his head from hitting the wall, but his bed is slamming against it, clearly bothering the neighbors. Not that he cares.

“Does it feel good?” Sanji asks, his voice but a breath, and Zoro can only nod.

Yeah, now it is. The heat is starting to warm him up, the thickness of it is filling him up, the length is brushing right against his good spot, and just the fact that this is _Sanji,_ his Sanji, makes it worth it.

They’re not going to last long, Zoro can already feel himself edging. Sanji’s face is tinged with pink, the hard muscles of his stomach fluttering with suppressed effort, and his eyes are darker than the ocean at night.

Sanji leans back, Zoro’s hands falling from around his chest to grip Sanji’s forearms, and Sanji grabs on to his hips, his legs pushing him forward as he fucks into Zoro, the roll of his hips entirely debauched.

“I’m close,” Sanji warns. “Shit, _Zoro_ …you feel so fucking good.”

Zoro nods because that’s the only thing he can do, and grips himself tightly, jerking his hand up and down to the rhythm of Sanji’s hips. The sound of the cook’s thighs and balls slamming against his ass is brutal; the wet, squelching sound his dick makes every time he enters and pulls out, is just so… _needy_.

And when he comes, he does so crying out with a desperate, erotic voice. His hips slam against Zoro’s, his grip punishing as he drags him down to make their connection deeper, and he comes inside as Zoro bursts all over his own chest.

They’re frozen for a moment, their breathing synchronized, and then Sanji’s arms give out and he falls on top of Zoro. He grunts, making a face at the gross feeling of wetness on his chest.

“You’re heavy,” Zoro grunts, and Sanji rolls off him. The bed isn’t very big, so he still has to stick close.

“You look tired,” Sanji whispers, bringing his hand up to softly brush at the dark bruises under Zoro’s eyes. “And you’ve lost weight.”

Zoro doesn’t say anything. What’s he supposed to say?

“You know…I could visit you at work,” Sanji continues. “So you can sleep longer.”

“You’re not going to my work,” Zoro answers without thinking, immediately. “Not now, not ever.”

* * *

  _The way he makes me feel like_

_The way he makes me feel,_

_I never seem to act so stupid_

_Oh here we go_

_He a part of me now_

_He a part of me_

_So where he goes I follow, follow, follow_

* * *

 Zoro waits until Sanji has fallen asleep to sneak out bed and into the bathroom. He doesn’t have the time to light a smoke, so he grabs one of the box-cutter blades he keeps behind his bathroom mirror and makes three small lines on top of his toilet tank. Caesar warned him not to do too much, that’s why he’s keeping the lines short and thin. Besides, if he lights up right now, Sanji will smell the acrid stink of Koro.

The cook fell asleep quickly. He didn't make a big deal out of  what Zoro said about his job, dropping the topic quickly.

He writes a note for Sanji before leaving for work. Usually, he wouldn’t bother showing up at Dressrosa, especially not after what happened with Sanji, but he’s worried about what Baby was going to tell him. She looked scared, and that’s an emotion he hardly ever sees on her.

Dressrosa is crowded, like always, but Baby is not at the bar. She’s not on the second floor either, or outside on a smoke break. He’s starting to get worried, when he’s distracted by a familiar face.

He frowns, his gaze fixed on Dellinger and Jackson. The two of them are sitting close together in one of the booths, with Dellinger practically on Jackson’s lap, whispering something in his ear. The younger man is clearly having fun, Zoro knows how much he likes playing with older men, and Jackson just looks fucked up.

But that’s none of his concern. As long as he’s not bothered, he doesn’t care what Dellinger does with the man.

He finds Baby in the security room, munching on stale doughnuts while watching the camera feeds.

“What are you doing here?” he demands, surprising her.

“Zoro! Oh, uh…covering for Gladius,” she explains and Zoro rolls his eyes. Baby seriously needs to learn how to say no. If Doffy finds out she left her spot behind the bar, he’s going to be fucking pissed.

“Doffy’s not here,” she says, reading his mind. “He’s with Mihawk.”

Zoro raises an eyebrow and steps in to close the door behind him. “Mihawk’s back? I thought he was in Texas.”

Baby shrugs. “Yeah, came back this morning. Doffy took him to Caesar’s place, so I guess we made the deal after all.”

“Is this what you wanted to talk about?” Zoro asks her.

“No,” Baby answers, then stops. She grimaces, her eyes glued to the screen, and starts playing with her hair like she always does when she’s nervous about something. “I…do you remember how…how Bellamy was always after me?”

Zoro stares at her, confused. “Yeah. So? I thought you never gave him the time of day.”

“Usually, yeah, but…I mean, he was a good guy,” Baby says quietly. “And he _needed_ me.”

Zoro doesn’t want to say what’s in his mind. He doesn’t consider Baby a friend, no one here fits that bill, but there’s no reason to be an asshole to her and remind her the only thing Bellamy wanted from her was her ass.

“So you slept with him? What’s that gotta do with me?” Zoro frowns and looks at her sidelong. “Are you pissed because I kicked his ass?”

“No,” Baby answers softly. “I’d probably have done the same thing. Doffy…he gave me a home, you know? When I had nothing, he helped me out. I owe my life to him. But I…don’t agree with everything he does.”

Zoro still doesn't know what her point is, so he doesn’t say anything. Whatever it is, it must be hard to say if Baby is hesitating so much. He only wonders why Baby would choose to tell him. Does she consider him a friend? Does she trust him?

“I know what you did to those girls, Zoro,” Baby says quietly and Zoro freezes. “Thank you for that.”

She knows? How could she know? Zoro can’t even remember! He just woke up covered in blood, with no memory of what had happened the day before. Did he kill them? Is Baby thanking him for that? Why would she do that?

“I won’t tell Doffy,” Baby continues. “So you don’t have to worry about that.”

“Thanks, Baby,” Zoro says after a moment. Whatever he did, it’s best to just pretend like he knows what it is. “Are you the only one who knows?”

“And Bellamy.”

Bellamy knows? Shit, did he snitch to Robin on him? Wait, if he _did_ kill them, then Robin knows. Fuck, is she going to come arrest him? Then why would she tell Sanji where he is? He’s sure Robin was the one who told Sanji where he was. Is this her sick way of giving him a last meal? Let him have a few days of happiness before she comes swooping down to give him a life sentence?

Does Sanji know?

And what about Baby? Why does she know of it? Why is she covering his tracks with Doffy? If Baby is still messing with Bellamy, does that mean she knows Robin? Does she know she’s Zoro’s friend?

But…didn’t Gladius take care of Bellamy? So Bellamy’s still alive?

Fuck, he can’t remember. He can’t think. Nothing makes sense. He can hardly remember what he did two days ago, let alone what happened two _weeks_ ago. Fuck, he’s losing his mind, and all of this—Doffy, Robin, Sanji—it’s just too much for him to handle.

“You got some stuff on you?” he asks Baby, eyes closed in a poor attempt to control the migraine growing behind his eyes. He just took a line, does he already fucking need more?

Yes, he does. He fucking _needs_ it.

“Got some GHB. Have you been drinking?”

“I had a beer during lunch,” Zoro admits. “But I think I’m good.”

Baby doesn’t question him. She better than anyone knows how high Zoro’s tolerance is. Zoro’s not crazy, he knows how dangerous it is to mix GHB with alcohol, but one beer won’t do him any harm. And besides, Caesar didn’t say he couldn’t mix Koro with other drugs. If he didn’t die mixing it with PCP, nothing’s gonna happen to him with GHB.

“You’re gonna stay here with me for the night?” Baby asks, handing him the bottle of water where she dissolved the drug.

“Yeah, why not?” Zoro shrugs.

“Wanna have a little fun?” Baby’s hand is already inching high on his thigh, but Zoro stops her and shakes his head.

“I’m good.”

Baby looks at him, _really_ looks at him, but she doesn’t say anything. And Zoro thinks, if he were forced to call anyone a friend in here, it really would be Baby.

* * *

  _Oh-oh ooh oh_

_Oh-oh ooh oh_

_I can't remember to forget you_

_Oh-oh ooh oh_

_Oh-oh ooh oh_

_I keep forgetting I should let you go_

_But when you look at me_

_The only memory_

_Is us kissing in the moonlight (oh)_

_Oh-oh ooh oh_

_Oh-oh ooh oh_

_I can't remember to forget you_

* * *

 He doesn’t know why he’s relieved to come home to Sanji. Maybe part of him expected the cook to be gone by the time morning came, but when he opens his apartment door, Sanji’s still asleep on his bed.

It still feels so surreal to see him here, in this piece of shit apartment Zoro calls home now. He doesn’t fit, sticks out like a sore thumb, and it almost feels like Zoro’s imagining him. Huh, maybe he is…who’s to say he’s not suffering from some long-ass hallucination caused by the dozen of drugs he’s tried?

He undresses down to his boxers and climbs in bed next to the cook, smiling slightly when Sanji immediately cuddles close to the warmth he gives off. Sanji scrunches his forehead, mutters something in his sleep, and lays his head on Zoro’s shoulder.

Zoro stares at him, his eyes following the contours of his face, studying every tiny detail. The fading freckles dusting over the bridge of his nose and upper cheeks. The few hairs on that silly mustache Sanji thinks looks good on him for some reason (it does, but Zoro won’t ever admit that). The curling eyebrow inherited from his grandfather, one of the few insecurities Sanji’s has about his body. The thin, always-bitten red lips. The sharp jaw and straight nose, the long lashes and high cheekbones…it’s all just so…familiar.

Sanji’s arm wrap around his waist as the man snuggles closer and Zoro closes his eyes, knowing it’s better if he just falls asleep. He can’t think when he’s asleep.

When he wakes up, it’s to the sound of Sanji whistling as he cooks. Zoro doesn’t speak up for a moment, content in just watching Sanji move about his kitchen like a fish in water, but soon the smell of the amazing breakfast Sanji’s preparing makes his stomach growl in anticipation.

Sanji glances at him, laughing. “Hungry, marimo?”

“Starved,” Zoro answers honestly, sitting up.

“Hmm, good. Go wash your face while I make your plate.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s already got that itch running under his skin. He opens the faucet to mask any noises he could make, and prepares three lines again, but this time thicker and longer. He’s going to need more, if he wants it to last. He doesn’t want the effects to fade at any moment he’s with Sanji. Doesn’t want to arise any suspicion. Besides, he’s a pro at this, there’s no way he’ll overdose. His body is much more used to drugs than Caesar could possibly know.

The rush comes faster, but it’s somehow duller. Doesn’t feel as good, so he takes some more, just in case. He cannot stop the sound that escapes his lips at the feeling of euphoria that runs through his veins. Better than anything he’s felt before. Better than sex, better than sleep, better than Sanji.

“Hurry up, Zoro!”

He closes his eyes, ignoring the voice, and basks in the new sensation. How much did he take? He quickly looks down at his baggie and frowns when he sees he has about a quarter left. Fuck, he’s going to have to get some more from Caesar. How long has it been since he got the two grams? How long Caesar said it would last? Maybe he can talk Baby into getting him some more. Perhaps three or four grams more…he’s going to have to hide some money from Sanji, before the cook spends it all on groceries again. Or maybe he can stop paying his landlord rent. Yeah, the guy doesn’t have the guts to kick him out, and that’s another six hundred dollars.

“Zoro, it’s getting cold!”

He scowls, but shoves the almost-empty bag back into the little crevice behind the sink where he hides it. He quickly washes his face to wipe away any remnants, and grabs some eyedrops to drive away a little bit of the redness in his eyes. He can always lie and tell Sanji he got drunk yesterday, which he didn’t because of the GHB, but the cook won’t know.

“Finally. Thought you fell in the toilet,” Sanji jokes when he finally comes out. “Food’s ready.”

“Thanks,” Zoro says, grabbing his plate from the counter.

“You look like shit. Tough day at work?”

Zoro shrugs. “Nah. Just watched security cameras all night,” he says honestly. “What about you? Got anything to do today?”

“I’ll head back to my hotel to shower and grab a change of clothes,” Sanji nods. “Give you a chance to sleep some more. I’ll stop by in the afternoon, we can grab a bite to eat.”

Zoro nods. He feels surprisingly comfortable, and Sanji isn’t being weird. It’s almost as if they didn’t have sex yesterday, except Zoro’s ass still aches and Sanji has bruises on his arms where Zoro squeezed too hard.

He still remembers the aftermath of their first night together: Sanji went a week without talking to him, and Zoro almost went crazy.

But this is…this feels almost like when they were dating, those short three weeks. Well, with the only change being that Sanji back then was always horny. Seriously, it was like a switch was turned on inside the blond, and having tried doing it with a guy, he just wanted to keep going at it.  Zoro thought asking to switch positions would change Sanji’s mind, but no—in fact, it seemed like the cook _liked_ being in control with Zoro’s dick in his ass.

Sanji leaves shortly after breakfast, promising to come back around three o’clock to wake him up, but Zoro doesn’t go to sleep. No, he needs to go find Baby and convince her to buy him a couple grams of Koro.

Now, even though Zoro’s _technically_ part of the DonQuixote Family, since the very beginning he chose to live out of Doffy’s house. The older man lives in a large, isolated mansion downtown that he shares with the rest of his ‘family’. Zoro’s only ever been to it twice, and both times it was because he was too drunk to find his way home and Baby took him in.

Most of the mansion’s inhabitants are asleep when Zoro comes knocking. Dellinger opens the door, looking like he’s just woke up, dressed only in women’s underwear with his hair sticking all over the place.

“Ugh, what do you want?” he grunts, that high-pitched voice gone.

“Is Baby up?”

“I don’t know. Check the kitchen,” Dellinger snaps, turning around to leave. “Waking me up for a damn booty call,” Zoro hears him mutter as he follows him in.

“Delli? I thought I heard—.”

Zoro frowns, looking at Jackson. He didn’t expect to see him here; Dellinger only brings his favorite toys home, and judging by the way Jackson looks like he just went a round in bed with a damn piranha, he must be pretty high on the list.

“Don’t make too much noise,” Dellinger warns him. “Sugar’s a nightmare if you wake her up before noon.”

Zoro grimaces and nods. He’s only met the ten-year-old once, and that was one too many. She’s Monet’s younger sister, and the damn brat is spoiled as fuck. Well, what else could she be when Doffy considers her the princess of the house, doting on her all the time?

The two times he came here, he didn’t see anything other than Baby’s room, so he has a little trouble finding the kitchen. More than once, he ends up back at the entrance hall, but after what seems like ages, he finally finds it, and luckily, Baby inside.

“Zoro! What are you doing here?” she asks, sounding pleasantly surprised. She’s dressed in black pajamas with a pink apron on top, her wavy hair tied back in a ponytail and her face smeared with pancake batter.

“Need a favor,” Zoro says without preamble. “You know that new shit Koro? You think you can get me three grams of it?”

Baby frowns. “Three? That’s…are you already selling?”

“Nah, it’s for me,” Zoro says honestly. “I’m running low. I got the money, but Caesar won’t sell me ’til the week is up, and I need it _now.”_

“Um, maybe you should listen to Caesar. I mean—.”

“Baby, I don’t need a fucking babysitter,” Zoro snaps. “I need you to do this for me.”

Low blow, he knows, but he doesn’t have time to mess around. If he doesn’t get enough for another large hit, he won’t be a able to go through the day with Sanji.

Baby sighs and turns around to flip the slightly burnt pancakes. “Fine. I’ll talk with Monet. But you owe me.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Want some breakfast? I made too much and no one’s up yet.”

“Nah, I already ate,” Zoro says.

“Twinkies doesn’t count, Zoro.”

“Sanji made, uh, scrambled eggs,” Zoro coughs.

Baby glances at him. “He’s still at your place?”

“What’s with that face?” Zoro demands, glaring at her.

“What face?”

“That one! You’re looking at me like you think I’m stupid or something!”

“I don’t think you’re stupid,” Baby says quietly. “But what you’re doing is _really_ dumb.”

Zoro smirks. “Why? Because I won’t fuck you? Get my three grams, and I’ll do anything you want.”

“You’re not the only guy with a dick, you know,” she snaps. “I know what you’re going through, and…it never works out, Zoro.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Zoro growls.

Baby sighs and takes the pancakes out of the fire, turning around with her hands crossed to glare at Zoro. “When I was twenty-two, Doffy sent me undercover at the local university,” she starts. “Prescription medication, especially central nervous system depressants, are pretty popular during finals.”

“Okay, and what does—.”

“I met a guy,” Baby interrupts, still glaring at him. “His name was Sai. Top student, military family, he was going places. Didn’t buy from me, he was straight-laced. He was clean, he was good, he was _pure_. Had nothing to do with this life, and when I was with him, neither did I. I know how it feels, Zoro, to be wanted by one of them. To feel normal, like just another person off the block, with the chance to lead a happy, long life. But guess what? I never works out.”

“This isn’t like that,” Zoro growls. “Sanji isn’t—.”

“It’s not about what Sanji is, it’s about what _you_ are,” Baby snaps. “What _we_ are. You think I fuck you because I _like_ you? Because I’m in love with you or something? No, I do it because I know you need it, and yeah, I like to feel needed. I know it. Because ever since I was born, I was always told that no one needed me. My mother didn’t need another mouth to feed, another kid to raise, another burden to carry. And the kind of needs my father had…well, I didn’t much care for _those_. So I ran away, and when Doffy found me, I was what he needed. And it worked for me. And now, I’m the girl everyone needs, the one that won’t be thrown away.”

Zoro swallows thickly, staring at Baby with new eyes. “So…what…what happened with Sai?”

“Overdosed,” Baby says firmly, her face grim. “I didn’t let go and took him down with me. Just because you shit on a field of flowers doesn’t mean it won’t stink up the place. On the contrary, you just start rotting it away.”

* * *

_I’d rob and I’d kill to keep him with me_

_I’d do anything for that boy_

_I'd give my last dime to hold him tonight_

_I’d do anything for that boy_

* * *

 Sanji isn’t weak. Zoro can find a thousand flaws on that man, but weakness is not one of them. He understands where Baby is coming from, understands that maybe she’s right, but Sanji isn’t that weak. He would never fall off the wagon like Zoro did. He would never give in so easily. He’s too much of a fighter to ever become a victim.

Still, for some reason, Zoro suddenly doesn’t want to go home anymore. Just thinking about seeing Sanji again today makes him feel nauseous.

Luckily for him, Monet (as Caesar’s assistant) has a few samples of Koro on her, and Zoro shares them with Baby. And through it, he finds a compatibility with her that he can never find with Sanji. He and Baby, they’re two sides of the same coin, kindred spirits, whatever other mystical shit there is. She’s his equal, while Sanji has always been his opposite. Sanji’s that unreachable goal at the end of the line, that perfect fruit hanging from a tree he’s not supposed to bite.

Sanji’s a dream, and Baby is a possibility.

So he stays with her, lets her join in his high, and when he does another line before going back to Dressrosa, he doesn’t have to hide in the bathroom and pretend he’s something he’s not. Nah, Baby just does a line with him and then sucks him off as a treat before they go.

Tonight is a specially busy night at the club. The deal with the Russians is locked and sealed, and with it, new goodies arrive. Doffy’s just become the biggest drug lord in all of North America, so of course, the Family gets to celebrate.

Doffy books Shyarly and her mermaids for the night, bans the entrance to anyone but VIPs (aka, those rich enough to buy their way in), and throws the biggest party Dressrosa has ever seen.

It’s supposed to be a magical night. Zoro’s supposed to get high as shit, drunk as fuck, and forget his name. Tonight is supposed to be a worry-free night, the time to relax and take it easy and forget all of his troubles.

Except his troubles show up dressed in a dark suit, lit cigarette in place, and looking like sin on legs.

“Sanji!?” Zoro exclaims, rushing to his side before anyone else can claim him. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Sanji shrugs, blowing smoke around his cigarette. “You didn’t come home. Thought I’d visit you.”

“I thought I told you not to come here,” Zoro growls.

“I thought you said you were a bouncer. Didn’t see you at the door.”

“I—.”

“Zoro! Oh, hey Sanji,” Baby says, smiling brightly at the cook. “Nice to see you! Zoro, I thought you were going home? Didn’t your shift end half an hour ago?”  

Zoro looks at her, fighting the urge to kiss her. “Uh…I thought I’d grab a drink.”

“Sake, right? Sanji, you want anything?”

Sanji looks between Baby and Zoro suspiciously, but he’s not one to turn down an offer from a pretty girl. “Sure. Martini.”

Zoro leads Sanji to the bar, his mind working overtime to figure out a way to get Sanji out of here before he catches anyone’s attention. He sits down in the middle of the bar, offering Sanji the spot next to him, and glares at the people around over Sanji’s head until they get a clue and scram. Sanji’s too busy ogling Baby to notice.

“So dear, how long have you been working here?” Sanji asks her, resting an elbow on the bar.

“Since I was old enough to,” Baby answers with a smile. “The owner practically raised me. So…this is practically home.”

“Well, I understand that,” Sanji says. “My father owns a restaurant. Worked there all my life, too.”

“You’re a chef?” Baby asks, surprised.

“The very best! Right, Zoro?”

Zoro only grunts and Sanji kicks him on the ankle. “What the fuck’s your problem, curly?” he snarls, rubbing the throbbing spot. Shit, Sanji kicked him right in the bony part, too. That hurts like a bitch.

“Use your words, don’t just grunt, neanderthal,” Sanji snaps. “You’re speaking to a lady.”

“I thought I was speaking to you…well, you’re right. You’re practically a girl already.”

“Ha! Like that’s an insult. Rather be compared to a beautiful woman than a stinky moss ball like you.”

The sound of Baby’s laughter stops Zoro from retorting with an equally stupid insult, and the two of them turn to stare at her. “Sorry,” she says, still giggling. “You guys sound like squabbling children.”

Sanji makes a high, insulted noise and Zoro snorts.

“You two know each other long?” she asks curiously.

“Since we were in diapers.”

“ _You_ were in diapers,” Zoro reminds him. “Four years old, and still getting his diaper changed.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault Zeff traumatized me by telling me the toilet was going to fucking eat me!”

Zoro laughs loudly. God, he had forgotten about that. Zeff had tried to make things better by telling Sanji toilets needed to eat, but it had horribly backfired. The cook cried every time he even _looked_ at a toilet seat. The only reason he braved it was because he wanted to go to school with Zoro, and kids weren’t allowed to sign up unless they were potty trained.

Sanji smacks him in the chest, startling him, and grabs his shirt to draw him in closer, forcing his gaze somewhere across the club. “Is that who I think it is!?”

Zoro considerably pales at the sight of Mihawk. “Uh…”

“Zoro! That’s Dracule fucking Mihawk! Go talk to him!”

“I already talked to him,” Zoro says honestly. “He’s here for work, Sanji.”

“Mihawk is a business partner,” Baby adds.

“He is? You must be stoked,” Sanji tells Zoro, grinning. “Have you tried fighting him?”

“No.”

No, he hasn’t, because he isn’t an idiot. He can’t beat Mihawk in a fight, he’s not that good a swordsman. It’s been half a year since he last picked up his sword for anything other than intimidation. Fuck, when was the last time he even cleaned them? _Looked_ at them? They’ve been gathering dust under his bed all this time.

“Wow, did you finally learn some restraint?” Sanji asks, grinning. “Good for you. But hey…someday, right?”

Zoro smiles humorlessly. “Yeah, someday.”

* * *

  _I’d rob and I’d kill, to keep him with me_

_I’d do anything for that boy_

_I'd give my last dime to hold him tonight_

_I’d do anything for that boy_

* * *

 He shares a couple of drinks with Sanji just so the cook won’t be able to tell how anxious he is about getting out of Dressrosa. The cook still isn’t that good a drinker, so he stops drinking after the second martini, and that leaves him just on the right side of buzzed. When drunk, Sanji turns into even more of a pervert than he already is, with the added bonus of clinginess, fuzziness, and lack of filter.

They door has barely closed behind them, when Sanji throws himself at Zoro and starts kissing him, his hands automatically going to tug at his shirt.

Zoro doesn’t even bother stopping him. That’s just not something he’s physically able to do. But he’s drunk, and he’s high, so there’s really no reason for him not to let Sanji fuck him.

“Ow,” he complains when Sanji bites his lip.

Sanji giggles, licks the wound, then steps back to take Zoro’s shirt off. “C’mon, slowpoke.”

Zoro staggers forward as Sanji walks backwards towards the bed, dragging him along. He wraps his hands around Sanji’s waist as they fall back, and the cook opens his arms and legs to hold him close. He can already feel Sanji’s arousal poking him in the stomach, his own requiring little attention.

“Too many clothes,” Sanji complains, tugging on Zoro’s belt. “Take ‘em off.”

Zoro drags his mouth down Sanji’s neck, licking and biting at the sensitive skin, then straightens up to work on his belt. Sanji’s hands are having little difficulty unbuttoning his own shirt, and as Zoro stands up to take off his shoes and jeans, Sanji shimmies out of his until they’re both naked.

Zoro’s eyes fall to Sanji’s excitement, already hard and leaking. Sanji smirks, opening his legs just a bit wider.

“Don’t worry about that right now,” he murmurs. “Do you wanna fuck me?”

Yes, he does. It’s not even a question. ‘No’ will never be the answer. Sanji laughs and Zoro realizes he’s been nodding eagerly, and blushes red. He tries distracting Sanji with his hands, massaging his pale thighs with strong, smooth movements.

Sanji’s eyes darkens and he stops laughing, even though there’s still a smile on his face. “If you wanna do me, you’re going to have to get me all loose and wet,” he murmurs, and Zoro’s mouth waters when Sanji lifts a leg, pale hand going down to spread his ass and show Zoro his pink, tight opening. “Don’t you wanna be a good boy and lick me open?”

Ah, fucking shit. He really can’t afford for any more blood to rush to his dick. The heat in his cheeks warms deeper as he nods. Sanji smiles and runs his hands through his hair as Zoro lowers his face.

He’s done this before for Sanji, a surprising amount of times in fact. The first time was an accident, and he honestly thought the cook would kick his ass, except for some astound reason, Sanji liked it. And Zoro likes how it makes Sanji feel. He's always been good with his mouth, courtesy of fighting with Wado between his teeth for ages, so he knows he gives good head.

But for him, it’s not about getting pleasure, or even about it tasting good—it’s about the noises Sanji makes, the way he grinds down against his face, his fingers knotted in his hair, his complete lack of restraints as he gets pleasure from Zoro’s mouth without regards for anything else.

It’s the way Sanji selfishly takes everything, how he can order and command Zoro to do anything he wants, because they both know Zoro is going to give him his all. It’s a sick pleasure of knowing he’s the only one that can see this side of Sanji, the one he won’t ever show to a woman, to a friend, to a stranger.

Because this…this demanding, commanding, controlling person is part of who Sanji is, and Zoro is the only who knows it.

“Use your fingers,” Sanji orders, pulling on his hair to bring his face up to meet his darkened eyes. There’s a blissful smile on Sanji’s face, his cheeks painted red, his chest heaving. “You can’t fuck me until I come.”

He can do that. Sanji’s deliciously sensitive, just rubbing his prostate can get him to come harder than getting a blowjob. And Zoro’s erection is already starting to feel painful, he _needs_ to be inside Sanji.

So he gets back to work, working a finger inside along with his tongue, wincing when Sanji pulls too hard on his hair. He takes Sanji’s cry of pleasure as an apology, and he curls his finger, well-accustomed to finding Sanji’s sweet spot.

Zoro can feel Sanji’s legs on either side of him, the muscles shaking and quaking, his heels digging into his back as his whole body pushes Zoro closer. Sanji’s voice is getting weaker, lower, as his orgasm approaches, so Zoro digs in a second finger, pressing into that soft spot inside Sanji, and the cook screams as he comes.

Zoro groans slightly in pain as Sanji squeezes around his fingers, but most of his attention is focused on watching the blond frozen in pleasure. It’s always such a wonder watching bliss course through Sanji’s body, lighting him up from the inside.

“You okay?” he asks, pulling his fingers out once Sanji loosens up. Sanji smiles, dopey, and tugs him down for a filthy kiss.

“Do you think you did a good job, Zoro?” he whispers into his mouth. “Think you deserve a reward?”

Zoro hisses as Sanji’s hand wraps around him, squeezing him not hard enough. He nods, resting his head on Sanji’s chest, and he’s not at all surprised when Sanji pushes him back to reverse their roles, climbing on top of him.

“I think so, too,” Sanji says, grinding down on him.

Zoro hisses and grips Sanji’s thighs as the cook lowers himself down slowly, feeding Zoro’s aching cock inside of him. Sanji’s half-hard, still spent from his own orgasm, but he doesn’t seem to care as he lowers himself completely, until his ass is touching Zoro’s hips.

Sanji hisses and leans his head back, his mouth falling open as he starts to move. Zoro can only watch, captivated, as Sanji rides him, his powerful legs flexing underneath Zoro’s hands as he moves.

He’s gorgeous like this. He looks so erotic, head pulled back, hands gripping his own hair, mouth open, chest heaving, and hips rolling sensually.

He doesn’t know if he makes a sound, or if he moves, but Sanji’s attention lands on him. Sanji smirks, secretive and seductively, and leans down to capture his lips in a kiss. Zoro wraps his arms around Sanji, holding him close as their bodies slide against each other, feeling Sanji’s hardened member rubbing against his stomach, Sanji’s tongue in his mouth.

He plants his feet on the bed and fucks into Sanji every time he grinds down, slow and well-paced, until they both unravel.

And when they both come off their shared bliss, Sanji kisses him again, this time softly.

“That’s just what I needed,” he murmurs, and rolls off him.

Zoro doesn’t say anything, staring at the ceiling. He feels strangely detached. There’s something missing, some part of him that doesn’t care about the warmth next to him. He feels…empty. And that’s not something he’s supposed to feel when he’s with Sanji.

He’s anxious and edgy, and he feels nauseous. He feels antsy and hot, and all he really wants right now is to grab the Koro Monet gave him and take a line. Part of him doesn’t even care if Sanji sees him, he just knows he needs to take a line.

Baby words come back to him, strangely prophetic.

“Sanji…why are you here?” he asks, but Sanji has already fallen asleep.

Maybe it’s for the best Zoro doesn’t get an answer to that question.

* * *

  _Oh-oh ooh oh_

_Oh-oh ooh oh_

_I can't remember to forget you_

_Oh-oh ooh oh_

_Oh-oh ooh oh_

_I keep forgetting I should let you go_

_But when you look at me_

_The only memory_

_Is us kissing in the moonlight (oh)_

_Oh-oh ooh oh_

_Oh-oh ooh oh_

_I can't remember to forget you_

* * *

 Zoro doesn’t sleep at all through the night. He tries to hold on as long as he can, knowing he will lose something—he’s not sure what exactly—if he gives in to the urge telling him to sneak into the bathroom and take another hit. But he can only last so long before he gives in, and when he takes in the drug, all he feels is bliss, no regrets.

It’s early in the morning, Sanji’s still asleep, and Zoro’s in a good enough mood to go out and buy breakfast. Sanji deserves a break from cooking, and he knows the cook’s love for doughnuts. He leaves a note letting him know where he’s going, then hits the streets.

Buildings move around some, but Zoro doesn’t mind. He just keeps leisurely strolling until he comes about a bakery. By the time he’s done buying their breakfast, paired with piping hot coffee, the streets are busier and the sun is higher in the sky.

He’s in a strangely good mood, and there’s no reason at all. And whatever happens, his mood doesn’t damper. He doesn’t care when someone knocks into him, almost causing him to drop the food. He doesn’t care when an idiot runs a red light and almost runs him over. He doesn’t care when he arrives home and finds the elevator is broken. He doesn’t mind when he opens the door and finds his apartment empty.

He doesn’t mind when the day turns to night, and Sanji is still nowhere to be seen

He doesn’t mind that’s he’s been left alone again.

At least, not until the drugs run out.

* * *

  _But when you look at me_

_The only memory_

_Is us kissing in the moonlight (oh)_

_Oh-oh ooh oh_

_Oh-oh ooh oh_

_I can't remember to forget you_  
  



End file.
